


What We Have

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Duplicty, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-12 05:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: They had survived their encounter with the Succubus and Incubus, but the memories aren't quite so easy to leave behind.





	What We Have

_It had been their plan all along, to bring you here to kill you._

Caleb woke with a start, the Succubus’ words echoing in his mind and half-asleep he half expected to find the others gathered around him, weapons drawn. Immediately hating himself for that thought as he realised that they were all asleep, scattered around the small campfire that was little more than embers, just enough for him to make out Yasha on the opposite sight, her eyes reflecting the flames as she glanced across at him. She’d caught his movement then, and he took a deep breath, debating whether to pretend to go back to sleep or to sit up and join her. She was probably the only party member who would have let him get away with that, and maybe that was why he pushed himself up on trembling arms, careful not to disturb Nott who had pressed close as soon as they’d settled for the night. The little goblin mumbled under her breath, chasing his warmth, and finding his blanket instead she pulled it around herself and settled once more.

He waited a moment later, not wanting to rouse her, but when she didn’t stir again, he quietly got to his feet and circled around to join Yasha. She didn’t say anything, but she made room on the blanket she was using for a seat, protecting them both from the cold stone underneath as he settled beside her, and glancing at her out of the corner of his eye he lifted his hand and sent a firebolt into the flames, bringing it back to life.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a slight smile appearing before her expression turned pensive and she focused on the fire once more. “I can still hear his voice…” Caleb started, not having expected her to continue, as it wouldn’t b the first watch that they’d spent in almost complete silence, and then her words registered and he froze. His hands began to tremble, the sensation building and building until it felt like his entire body was shaking, and maybe it was.

_They’re not your friends, I’m sorry. But I am…_

The whispers had sunk under his skin, curling around his mind, until it had seemed like it was the only thing that made sense. Even now he could feel the echoes of it, and a quick glance at Yasha and the pained expression on her face told him that she was feeling the same. They had been charmed. Used against their will. Turned into weapons against their friends. Caleb knew at least on a practical, rational level that it hadn’t been them, and that it hadn’t been their fault. The others had spent a long time before they’d finally turned in to rest making sure that they both knew that and waving aside all attempts at apology. But it wasn’t that easy to believe.

“That’s what woke me,” he admitted, feeling awkward saying it aloud. He wasn’t used to sharing, especially about things like this. Things that made him feel as though maybe he hadn’t changed at all, and that some part of him would always be Bren. That he would always be the malleable magical soldier, just waiting for someone to take control. That terrified him, but not as much as the tiny voice in the back of his head that had come alive when Yasha had forced him back to himself, her blade doing what the other’s attempts hadn’t been able to do. The one that laughed at him, the one that whispered that maybe he had fallen to her lies and charm so easily because he had been waiting for this moment.

Waiting for the others to betray him.

_I don’t believe that _he thought fiercely, curling his fingers into fists in an attempt to hide how badly he was shaking now. He might have believed it once upon a time, back when things were new and uncertain between them, and in the aftermath of the events in Zadash and the memory of Fjord’s sword pressed against him. But that was a lifetime ago. That was before they had become friends, and then family. Before they had lost Molly and met Caduceus. Before he’d realised that he would die for these people and that they would die for him.

So, why wouldn’t the thought leave him alone?

And why did he feel so uneasy surrounded by the others, even though they were fast asleep?

He couldn’t stop his eyes from darting around. Fjord was sprawled on his back, snoring softly, his falchion banished for the time being but as close as a thought. Even as he watched Beau stirred, rolling over to kick the half-orc, making him roll over to escape, the snoring tapering enough, and even as his lips twitched against his will, he found himself assessing her. She didn’t need a weapon to be a threat, and he glanced at his own clenched fists, knowing that they didn’t compare. Nott… No, even now he couldn’t doubt her, not really, even as a small part of him wondered whose side she would come down on if things ever went sour. Before, he would have said his… but she had found a place here, a family that didn’t care about the colour of her skin or the body that she had been forced into, and he wasn’t sure that she could wall away from that. No, he wouldn’t want her to.

Jester and Caduceus had wound up curled together, probably a result of the close call with the latter, their weapons close by just in case anything else happened. Not that they needed them, and he twitched remembering how Jester’s magic had brushed against him, trying to steal his hearing, and even though the rational part of him knew why she had done it, and that he was lucky that she had tried to disable rather than hurt, he felt himself trembling harder than ever.

A hand on his shoulder had him flinching, a spell half-formed before he realised that it was Yasha and he froze, embarrassed and panicked at once. She squeezed his shoulder lightly, holding his gaze and waiting patiently for his hands to fall back to his lap, before releasing him, but she didn’t pull away. “They knew just what to say to each of us,” she said, voice soft, the words just for his ears alone. “Our doubts. Our weakness. They knew how to make us question what we have here,” she gazed around at their sleeping friends, and Caleb found himself following her gaze, and this time he saw them as they were.

Fjord, beginning to roll over onto his back once more, a snore half-formed in the back of his throat.

Beau already shifting closer, attuned to this pattern by now.

Nott fast asleep in his blankets, one hand outstretched as though still reaching for him,

Jester exhausted from trying to keep him alive, and from saving Caduceus.

Caduceus, who they could so easily have lost from a stupid mistake, who had smiled at them and told them it would be okay.

And Yasha, a steady pillar of strength at his side. She understood his confusion, his guilt. What they had been charmed with had been different, their fears and doubts were different, but they had been in the same situation.

“They did,” he said finally, taking a deep breath before reaching out to wrap trembling fingers around her wrist, forging a connection. “But, they didn’t know what we had to come back to, or who we had fighting to bring us home.”

_And neither did I…_


End file.
